Hard Knocks
by muggleborn.dragon.ryder
Summary: Stoick is a simple bachelor, living alone and hoping to become mayor of the small town of Berk. However, when he saves a spunky orphan named Hiccup from getting hit by a car one winter day, his popularity with the people skyrockets. But playing on this newfound popularity brings him trouble when he realizes he's grown to care for the boy. Modern AU. Plot of 'Annie'.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hard Knocks**_

**A/N: My new HTTYD story! Inspired by the new movie coming out at Christmas, 'Annie'. I seriously considered waiting until the movie came out to even write the first chapter, but my friend encouraged me to write this because (her words exactly) "Your version will be so much angstier!" I suspect I've earned a name for myself xD**

**ALSO LET IT BE KNOWN THAT I AM PULLING THINGS OUT OF MY REAR ABOUT POLITICS. **

* * *

Stoick couldn't remember a time when it had been too cold for snow. He had grown up in the small town of Berk, Ohio, and it seemed to snow nine months of the year there, and hail the other three. The harsh weather wasn't a drawback to him; half the time, the snow and ice reflected his mood. But today, there was nothing but the pure, reflective white ice everywhere he looked, covering cars and coating the sides of buildings. Streets were frosted over and cars kept going skidding on the roads.

Stoick's Thunderdrum was in the shop after a particularly nasty scratch from the day before, when the ice had been even slicker, and he had gone skidding. How he had walked away with not a scratch was still heavily debated, but he himself had chalked it up to his genes, which had granted him an abnormally strong body. He could have borrowed his friend Gobber's car, but walking might have done him some good; he didn't want to get into another accident so soon after the first, or the people of Berk might start thinking he was careless with his own safety.

And they couldn't start thinking that, because he still had an election to win. He closed his eyes as he thought of it, the thing that had been plaguing his mind for the past week or so. He had always wanted to give something back to the town he had grown up in, even though it didn't always hold perfectly happy memories for him. It still held memories of his parents' funeral, and one of his best friends moving away only a few weeks after. That had been the hardest year of his life, but he had gotten through it. Muscled through it, really, just the way he always had. He didn't like needing help, so he had vowed to himself that he never would need it again, not after what had happened to his mother and father.

He tried to turn his mind back to the election, to rid himself of his emotions, the way he had tried so hard to do all his life, when the screech of tires made him glance up just before, to his horror, he saw it was not careless driving or icy roads that had made the driver slam on the brakes. There was a boy running out into the road, surely no more than twelve or thirteen, staring in horror at the windshield as the car drew nearer and nearer, unable to stop. He threw himself forward, but his sprint wasn't enough to bring him fully out of the way; his legs were still half in the road, and he had grabbed at the front of Stoick's jeans to stop himself from falling completely.

Stoick had mere seconds in which to act, and he did the only thing he knew to do; he grabbed the boy out of the road, depositing him safely on the sidewalk and keeping an arm locked around him, in case he decided to try and cheat death again. The car went spinning harmlessly onward, and the driver regained control fairly quickly. Stoick looked down at the boy in his arms, studying the small face.

He had bright, emerald green eyes, flyaway auburn hair that stuck up everywhere, more freckles than Stoick could even count, and, to the man's surprise, he was not dressed suitably for the cold weather. He had on a green T-shirt and a thin brown jacket that barely kept out the cold, it was clear by the way the boy shuddered with cold.

"Why did you run out into the road?" Stoick demanded of him, a bit harsher than he ought to have, because he was still a bit shaky from the sudden adrenaline rush. "Why are you running?"

The boy did not appear perturbed by the fact that he had just narrowly escaped death or severe injury. He broke out into a broad grin, his green eyes beginning to sparkle. "Gets me places quicker."

And then he dashed back out into the road once more, streaking off down the opposite sidewalk, bumping into a ton of people as he went.

Stoick rolled his eyes as he watched the boy run. "Crazy kids," he muttered to himself. The auburn-haired boy disappeared into the crowd of people, and the mayor hopeful allowed himself to shrug it off before continuing on his way.

* * *

Stoick had just recently bought himself a new cell phone, as his old one had died rather suddenly and inexplicably. Thus, he had not yet set a ring tone, so right now, it was perhaps the most annoying jingle he had ever heard. But at least it got him to answer quickly. When he spotted the contact name on the caller ID, announcing it was Gobber, his good friend and campaign manager, he flicked it open and put it to his ear, sure that the man was going to announce that his polls had shot up by two or three percent this week. Stoick wasn't expecting much, so he was completely astonished when the excited, heavily-accented voice practically yelled in his ear.

"Stoick! Stoick! You went up by almost sixty percent in the polls this week!"

"What?" The red-haired man couldn't hope to form another word than that; in fact, for a moment he pulled the phone away and stared at the screen to make sure this wasn't some elaborate joke. "Wait, what happened?"

"You tell me!" Gobber boomed into the phone. "Apparently, you saved a kid's life?!"

"I what?" Stoick yelled back, before remembering the strange, skinny auburn-haired boy whom he had pulled out of the street. He certainly wouldn't have referred to it as saving a child's life, but people in the town were hungry for excitement, and they tended to take a story and run with it. But everything did make much more sense about his stance in the polls.

"This looks brilliant for your election!" Gobber was saying enthusiastically. "The kid's a thirteen-year-old orphan from an all-male orphanage, this looks great!"

Stoick turned this news over in his mind as best as he could, but he was still a little uncertain. "I guess it does," he agreed faintly, sitting down at his kitchen table. He couldn't help seeing the boy again and again in his mind's eye. A split second decision had led to a sudden change in his polls, but he hadn't meant for that to happen. He just didn't want to see a kid get run over…

"You know what you have to do, right?" Gobber was saying when Stoick zoned back in.

"Huh?" he asked, not following.

"You've got to stick with this, milk it for all it's worth! I've got the name of the orphanage the kid's living in right now – you got to get him and be seen with him again, this could be huge!"


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hard Knocks**_

**A/N: It's been awhile since I posted on this story, huh? I got really lazy and I don't know how orphanages work, so I let this story fall by the wayside. However, I am reasonably confident that I kept things accurate and that I didn't stretch anything. Will anybody let me know if I did? **

**(Again, I'm pulling any and all political things out of my rear end, and it probably shows.) **

* * *

This might sound a little strange, considering that Hiccup lived in an orphanage, but he didn't want to be adopted. He couldn't imagine accepting a stranger's kindness, a stranger's pity. He had watched the kids come and go all his life, and with every kid that left, the other boys would chorus, "He'll be back in three days, tops."

Hiccup tried to stay positive, but it was hard. Nobody had ever shown any interest in adopting him before, and while that was all well and good with him, the one thing he really wanted was the thing it appeared he was farthest from getting: finding his birth parents. He had never even known his mother or father, and so far, in his thirteen years of searching, he had seen no one who even remotely resembled the description that the motherly headmistress of the orphanage had given him.

So, when the blue Thunderdrum pulled up outside the orphanage building, he crowded around excitedly at the windows to look with all the other boys, but he didn't bother wondering if it was for him; he just hoped that whoever it was for was heading off to a good home. The man who climbed out of the driver's side was one who sent a bolt of recognition running through the thirteen-year-old. Wasn't this the man who had grabbed him out of the way of the moving car that day? He wondered idly who the man could possibly be looking to adopt, and if he had ever even thanked the man. If not for him, Hiccup's legs would have gotten crushed by the car tires, and just the idea made him wince.

Another man opened the passenger side door, a blonde man this time, slightly shorter and rounder than Wonder Beard, as Hiccup decided to christen him. That facial hair was the largest he had ever seen, and he couldn't resist a tiny smile at the thought. He put his face closer to the window, until he felt a tug on his shirt; looking down, he saw tiny Gustav staring up at him with those large gray eyes. "Who is it? What's going on?" The excitable but shy little boy asked.

Hiccup smiled, picking the five-year-old up and letting him get a look for himself. "See, Gustav, somebody's getting adopted today! Aren't you excited?"

Gustav twisted around to look hopefully. "Is it me? Are they coming for me?"

"Maybe," Hiccup responded. He felt a sudden desire to make sure that it was Gustav whom Wonder Beard picked.

"Or maybe it's you?" Gustav added.

Hiccup shrugged in response; his hopes for that particular occurrence were not high. How could they be? Nobody had ever wanted him before.

He slid away from the window with a sigh, cutting his gaze to the other boys crowded around him. He was sure that Wonder Beard was going to pass right over him, as everybody had. Oh, and there was nothing wrong with that, of course; like he said, he didn't really want to be adopted. He wanted to find his birth parents, that was all. Still, it was depressing when you were told a dozen times a day that nobody wanted you, until it was told to you so much that you realized nobody in your whole life was ever going to want you.

And that was another thing. When – not if – Hiccup really did find his parents, who's to say that they were going to want him after all?

* * *

For a man who was looking only to take out to lunch, not adopt, a child from this orphanage, there sure was a lot of paperwork to be done. Firstly, Stoick had had to show his ID, and then he'd had to answer what felt like a thousand questions in a full-blown interrogation, and now he waited as the woman at the desk looked up everything she could find about him. It was like they expected to find some awful secret about him when in truth, he just wanted to satisfy Gobber, and look good in the eyes of Berk. Was that so much to ask?

Finally, the woman seemed satisfied, and Stoick and Gobber were led back to see the boy, and given permission to take him for a short while.

He was even skinnier than Stoick remembered, but his green eyes still sparkled and his copper strands of hair still stuck up every which way, as if he had never met a comb in his life. He smiled a little when he spotted Stoick, whom he must have recognized.

"Hiccup, this man wants to take you for a ride," the woman from behind the desk said in a bright voice. "Would that be okay with you?"

_Hiccup_? Stoick wondered to himself. What kind of name was _that_?

Hiccup's eyebrows shot up into his hair, his green eyes bugging out. "In the Thunderdrum?" he demanded, pointing to the window, where the sleek blue car was still parked. "Are you _kidding_ me?"

The tension Stoick had been feeling that afternoon evaporated as his campaign manager laughed, not even bothering to try and turn it into a cough.

"No." Stoick took over for his campaign manager, glaring a little at him. "No, we're not kidding you. I wanted to take you for a ride, and have a bit of a talk with you."

Hiccup's eyes sparkled all the more at these words, and it was clear that the woman behind the desk needn't have asked; it was clearly more than okay with him, provided he got to ride in the Thunderdrum.

Several of the other boys stared openly as Hiccup squeaked out a bit of a nervous 'yes', and quite a few were sending jealous glares. A little boy, maybe five or six, jumped up and down in excitement. "I knew somebody would want you one day, Hiccup!" He squealed, hugging the teen's legs. "I knew they would!"

Hiccup carefully pried the little boy away from him, and he must have guessed the direction of Stoick's thoughts, because he merely shrugged. "That's Gustav for you," he said, but there was no apology for the other's behavior in his tone; on the contrary, there was something closer to pride.

Stoick took the lead out to the car, and Hiccup was clearly ecstatic to be riding in something as nice as a Thunderdrum, so he seemed very awkward about actually getting inside. Gobber finally settled things by grabbing him and stuffing him roughly in one of the seats, buckling the small boy in the passenger side, taking the backseat for himself, as if giving Stoick and the boy a chance to talk.

"So…" Hiccup dragged out the word, deciding that he wanted to be the first to speak. "Not that I wasn't grateful or anything, what with you jerking me out of the oncoming lane and everything, but may I ask why I'm here?"

Stoick neatly maneuvered the car around into the other lane, keeping his eyes on the road as he replied. "There's footage of you nearly being hit by that car, and a lot of people saw me pull you out of the way."

"Um…okay." This didn't really answer Hiccup's question, but he felt slightly wary of asking too many. People had told him a million times that he was too inquisitive for his own good.

"You might know this, but I'm running for mayor. It would reflect well on my election if we were seen more together. My popularity hit an all-time high once word leaked out about you. The more we're seen together, the better it looks for my election."

There was silence, and Stoick glanced at Hiccup quickly to see him staring down at his lap. For once, not even Gobber tried to speak to break the silence.

"It's settled then," Hiccup announced at last. "When I'm old enough to drive, I think this is the kind of car I want. It's amazing."


	3. Chapter 3

**_Hard Knocks _**

**A/N: ****SURPRISE**

**Yes, this is the surprise. Updating all of my eighteen in-progress fics at once. It was pretty crazy, but I did it, and it's here, and good day to you all! I had tons of fun doing this, so I hope you guys have tons of fun reading this!**

**On that note, I'm not sure how in-character or accurate this chapter is. I'm pulling everything about orphanages and politics out of my rear, remember, so please be kind. Plus, also, I really love Hiccup's nickname for Stoick xD and I changed Stoick's last name from 'Haddock' to 'Maddox' because Maddox sounds like it and is also less...weird xD **

* * *

To Hiccup's surprise, though he didn't voice it, they didn't just drop in the drive-through of a fast-food place; Wonder Beard drove to a part of town that the teen had never seen before, although he noticed that everything here was much cleaner.

"Is this where you live?" The question tumbled off his lips before he could stop it, tearing his eyes away from the view outside his window to look at Wonder Beard.

The man nodded. "Have you ever been here?"

"No, never," Hiccup shook his head, and Wonder Beard twisted the steering wheel slightly, turning down into the parking lot of a very rich-looking sit-down restaurant.

Hiccup privately thought that it was the type of place an old and crabby woman might go on her Friday nights spent away from Bingo, but he chose not to voice this thought as Wonder Beard cut the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for the door handle.

The blonde man climbed out of the backseat and Hiccup gave him a small smile as he slid out, too.

Once they had entered the building, the impression of an elderly lady's kind of place quickly vanished. Dim red lanterns hung from the ceiling, casting a crimson glow over the dark oak walls. The tables were highly polished, and the ding of the bell above the door echoed noticeably in the thick silence. Everybody was chewing quietly, and there was the clink of cutlery on porcelain, but nobody spoke, as though it were a library or a church.

Wonder Beard quietly spoke to a dark-haired woman bearing a black apron with the restaurant's crest, and she led them over to a table for two.

"There's only two chairs," Hiccup commented in surprise, as Wonder Beard indicated for him to take one. He obediently sat, but looked to the blonde man. "Where are you going to be sitting?"

"I think it'd be, er…best to let you two alone," the blonde replied awkwardly, and he refused to meet the boy's eyes, even when Hiccup gave him a curious look.

"So, what do you have to do with him anyway?" Hiccup gestured as the blonde man wandered off into the crowd, towards another table. "Is he your friend, or…?"

"Gobber's my friend, and my campaign manager." Wonder Beard responded shortly, as a waitress walked by and set menus down in front of each of them. "Why?"

"Oh…" Hiccup nodded in dawning comprehension. "I get it. He can't be seen with us, because then that would look _too_ set up, right?"

Stoick wasn't exactly sure he liked the tone Hiccup took, but he dismissed this. "I wouldn't call this set up—

"Well, I mean, you're doing this to look good, nothing else, right? This is set up. There's nothing wrong with that."

As he spoke, his voice audible in the silence of the other customers, people began glancing around at the table, registering that Stoick the Vast was sitting with the young orphan he had saved last week.

Several customers actually stood from their tables and walked past Stoick's several times, as if hoping to hear an interesting bit of conversation.

Hiccup regarded this with amusement dancing in his green eyes. "Wow," he remarked. "If this is what happens when you take me out to lunch…if I moved in with you, you'd probably become _President_."

Wonder Beard's lips twitched at the comment, but he hid this by pretending to be reading the menu. Unsure what to do with himself in such an upscale place, Hiccup picked up his own menu and scanned it with his eyes.

"Ready to order?" the waitress was back, a yellow legal pad balanced on a plastic tray in one hand and a pen in the other.

Wonder Beard nodded and murmured his order in a low voice, but Hiccup didn't catch it. When the waitress turned to him, however, he peeked down at the menu he held and blurted out the first dish he saw. "Grilled halibut with cilantro butter."

For some reason, this made Wonder Beard's lips twitch again; perhaps he had noticed Hiccup's quick glance downward, and guessed what he was doing.

"And what would you like for the drink?"

"Water," Wonder Beard replied.

"Do you guys sell Coke?"

The waitress nodded.

"Alright, then…Coke." It was hard for Hiccup to speak with as much authority as the man across from him; he wasn't used to ordering people about, unless you counted those rare times when he asked Gustav for a favor. And even then, it wasn't a demand; it was a request.

As the waitress smiled at them and walked away with a promise of being right back, the teenager allowed his eyes to roam the building again. "This is a nice place, you know. D'you come here a lot?"

Wonder Beard shrugged. "When I can."

"This is the nicest place I'll ever be in, that's for sure." Hiccup slumped down in his seat a bit, a glaring contrast to the rest of the customers, all sitting up as straight as if they had steel rods for spinal cords.

The man tore his eyes away from the others in the restaurant to focus on the boy in front of him. "You seem very certain of that." Privately, he wondered how much longer they could carry on with the small talk.

Hiccup shrugged indifferently. "I think it's pretty clear I'm never getting adopted. I mean, every time somebody comes into the orphanage, they just pass right over me. Except for you, of course, Wonder Beard, and you're bringing me back afterward."

Stoick blinked at the teen for a second, unsure how to respond to the not-so-affectionate nickname. "Wonder Beard?"

Hiccup, realizing what he had said, blushed scarlet, but met Stoick's eye. "Well, then what _is_ your name?"

"Maddox. Stoick Maddox. But you can continue with your charming nickname." To Hiccup's intense surprise, the man seemed to have decided that he found the whole thing amusing; he was actually smiling, and seemed to be fighting back a laugh.

Relieved that Mr. Maddox was taking things so well, Hiccup gave a quiet sigh of relief. "Right. Sorry, Wond—sir."

The waitress appeared beside their table again, holding a tray with two glasses upon it. "Here are your drinks," she chirped cheerfully as she set the tray down upon the table's edge and passed the glass of ice water to Stoick, and the glass of brown liquid to Hiccup.

"I'll be back with the food shortly," she assured them before disappearing for the second time within the hustle and bustle of the kitchens.

Hiccup picked up one of the napkins from the middle of the gleaming wooden table, folding it over and over until it formed a rather shapeless, crumpled ball of white. "I've never understood napkins," he confided to Stoick, unraveling the ball once more. "Why would we wipe our mouths on napkins when that's practically what sleeves are for?" As if to emphasize this point, Hiccup dropped the napkin and began playing with his jacket sleeve.

Taking an actual, long look at him, Stoick realized that his jacket was much too large for him, draping like a cloak over his tiny shoulders. Yet even though he'd just joked about wiping his mouth on his sleeves, the man couldn't help but notice that the overlarge jacket looked almost brand-new, though weather-beaten.

"I thought orphanages were supposed to keep the kids in well-fitting clothes," Stoick remarked before thinking. "Why do you wear such a huge jacket?"

Hiccup raised his gaze to the man's for a moment, and then dropped it again, back to his jacket. He took a long moment to speak, and in the silence, Stoick knew that he had overstepped. "I wasn't brought in to the orphanage in a blanket, like most babies. The headmistress said that she looked too poor to even afford a blanket in that time. Called her a Molly Weasley lookalike." He plucked a piece of lint from the brown sleeve. "I was brought in wrapped in this jacket. It's the only thing I have that came from my mother."

The story shouldn't have surprised Stoick, but it did. His eyebrows flew up on his forehead, and before really thinking it through, he blurted, "What, do you want to find your birth parents or something?"

Hiccup nodded slowly, pulling a knee up to his chest and resting his chin on his kneecap. "I want it more than anything else in the world."


End file.
